A Horse of A Different Color
by Nell McKeon
Summary: Amnesty Days - A short fictlet based on a story challenge - Horses. Does the color of a horse matter?


**A short slow-paced reflection on a horse in Heyes and Curry's lives.**

 **A Horse of a Different Color**

A battered black hat was wearily pulled off and slender fingers raked through tangled sweaty dark hair as a pair of brown eyes searched the landscape. The man replaced the hat and looked to his side with a mixture of annoyance and relief. His blond companion was leaning with one arm on the saddle horn as the other adjusted a wide-brimmed hat to shade blue eyes from the brilliant piercing rays of a dawn sun. Both men were breathing heavily as were their horses.

"We're all clear. Better walk the horses a bit to cool down before we look for a place to rest," the blond quietly commented as he continued to scan their surroundings.

The darker one of the pair nodded as he drew several deep breaths in an effort to slow his racing heart. Both riders got their tired mounts in motion. "You know, Kid, we coulda been sleeping already in a nice box car instead of thanking our lucky stars that we're here to see another day," Heyes remarked peevishly.

"Yeah, but then we'd just have to get new horses and gear in whatever town that train stopped at and with what money, Heyes? Besides, we both know that the sheriff leading that posse knows the rail stops and probably would've telegraphed ahead to arrange a little reception party. No, this way we still have our transportation and no one knows where we are exactly," Curry responded with the conviction of one who knows he made the right decision as he absently patted the neck of his mare.

"They don't know where we are because they have brains in their heads! They like life! I like life, too! Do you know what the odds were of us surviving that little night ride? Do you? I swear you were choosing the most dangerous route you could find. And whatever possessed you to jump that crevasse in just moonlight? Were you even thinking, Kid?" Heyes had reined his chestnut to a stop in order to give his full attention to berating his overly reckless partner, the adrenalin rush and high anxiety of the last few hours needed release. "And what was I thinking in following you, that is the last time I let you lead," he muttered to himself, his voice full of disgust.

Kid halted and rode back to face his high-strung friend, his expression rapidly changing from wounded to that of long suffering patience. "Nope, I leave the thinking to you. I just do and I don't calculate the odds as you very well know, Heyes." A little smirk appeared and was wiped from Curry's face as fast as it formed when Kid more fully gauged his partner's mood.

With the proper amount of contriteness Kid apologized, "Sorry, Heyes, but we didn't have the time to discuss things. I just thought that we are much better riders than any small-town posse, with all our experience, and that since the stakes are much higher for us than them, that they would back off if the going got too tough. Besides, these horses are up to anything we've asked of them and I just knew they wouldn't let us down. Isn't that right, Brandy?" Curry affectionately stroked the palomino's neck while he sought to make peace.

Heyes stared at his partner before his expression softened. "Well, since it worked out okay, I can't stay angry. Come on, there's a thick stand of cottonwoods at the bottom of the ridge among all those boulders , we'll most likely find some water and shelter so we can rest awhile." He kicked the chestnut into a slow walk and led the way. Heyes suddenly sat up straight in the saddle as the last word Kid said registered in his exhausted brain.

"Brandy?"

Kid followed and explained, his voice holding hints of embarrassment, defensiveness and affection, "I named her Brandy." He leaned over, reached out and lightly scratched between the mare's ears. His blue eyes took on a dreamy cast. "She kinda reminded me of that girl in Dallas, you know, the palest blonde hair, big brown eyes, tan skin, the longest legs I've ever seen on a woman and what a ride…ahem…I mean this Brandy, the mare, is a fine-looking palomino with great lines and a good heart so she reminded me of that girl. That's where the name came from, why?"

"It's just that you usually don't name the horses. I was wondering, that's all." Heyes digested this anomaly of Curry's behavior as he glanced sideways. He blinked and gave a hard stare at the pretty palomino walking beside his handsome chestnut gelding. But he must be more tired than he thought since he would have sworn the mare just turned her head quickly toward him and gave a self-satisfied smirk before facing forward on the way to the cottonwoods.

The quiet of dawn gave way to the noises of early morning. Birds could be heard chirping in the distance, the occasional buzz of an insect and the gentle warm breeze ruffling the manes and tails of the horses accompanied each rider's silent thoughts.

Heyes kept mulling over the significance of Brandy as he thought about horses in general. The two ex-outlaws spent their lives with horses and in truth trusted their lives to various steeds more times than he could count. In all the years since they left the orphanage they have bought and sold, left on the side of railroad tracks, in liveries, roaming free and unfortunately put humanely down due to unforeseen circumstances more horses than he would have wanted to. Just like women, wanted men could not afford to become emotionally attached to their mounts. Oh, for sure, in their Devil's Hole days they tended to keep certain horses for longer periods of time. That was one of the advantages of having a safe base but now that their run for amnesty had begun, a horse could be here today and gone tomorrow. That was reality, like it or not. In fact, Heyes could count of the fingers of one hand the horses he named since naming was a colt from his family's mare on a Kansas farm.

In spite of Curry's reasons for the risky ride from the latest posse's pursuit, which did have some validity he conceded, Heyes wondered if the Kid's, until now, hidden attachment to the palomino had more influence that was prudent, on his actions. The fact that Curry even bought a palomino, despite its good looks and conformation, was strange. Being wanted and on the run made blending in of paramount importance. It was for that reason that they almost always chose bays and chestnut mounts. The Kid had an affinity for darker coats but they were still a common enough coat color. A roan now and again might be pressed into service but they avoided showier and more noticeable blacks, white, grays, paints buckskins and palominos.

Heyes glanced back and met the steady brown gaze of the stunning cream and golden horse following his more common light chestnut. He looked up at his partner. Kid's attention was, as usual, focused on surveying their surroundings for any possible threats and Kid reassured his partner that all was well with a comforting look back.

Heyes couldn't deny the fact that he was pleased not to have left his present mount along the side of a railroad track. The chestnut gelding had great endurance, speed and a forgiving disposition.

"You're good looking with nice lines, too," he quietly told his horse as he studied the strong neck with the left laying reddish clay-colored mane and the proud head marked with a white blaze shaped like a fuzzy lightning bolt. He shook his dark head in rueful realization that now Kid had him talking to his own horse and remembered the day, a month or two ago, when they bought the pair.

They both had a good eye for horse flesh but Kid had a gift for sizing up a horse at a glance and they had been in a hurry. They were standing in front of livery corral having quickly picked out a copper chestnut for Heyes and a dark bay for Curry when a palomino mare strutted over and nuzzled the Kid's neck while Heyes was negotiating hard, given their chronic low funds, with the livery owner. He had just settled on a price when Kid broke in and stated he would add five dollars more to exchange the dark bay for the palomino. Heyes momentarily was at a loss of words as he gave the Kid a quick sideways questioning look. Curry was nose to face with a golden mare and if Heyes didn't know better he would insist that the mare was using equine feminine wiles by batting her cream colored lashes and big brown eyes at his susceptible partner. He noted the stubborn set of Curry's jaw and the resolute glint in the blue eyes and countered the Liveryman's exorbitant demand.

And here they were, Heyes realized as he cut his musing short. They, the ex-outlaws, the chestnut and the palomino, had arrived at the chosen spot for a well-deserved rest.

The two men slowly dismounted as sore muscles and tired limbs made themselves known. Each set to the task of removing their gear and unsaddling their horses. Their well-practiced routine was in evidence when Heyes started to arrange a camp while Kid tended the animals. Heyes lifted his head from arranging a fire ring of stones at the annoyed snort of a horse.

"Hey! Stop that!" Heyes admonished the mare, who was butting his gelding away from Curry as he rubbed chestnut down.

Kid laughed and lightly batted his horse. "Brandy, I'll get to you and make the wait worth it. Don't worry," he soothed. The mare snorted once more, shook her head at the gelding and tried to force her way between the Kid and the chestnut. Kid stood, whispered in the palomino's ear while his left hand stroked her flank and she cooperatively backed off to stand still in the dappled sunshine.

Heyes watched with narrowed eyes and a new perspective. He actually knew that the horse didn't like other horses to get too close to the Kid and she had a habit of seeking attention if she felt she was being neglected. She was tolerant of Heyes but if Kid wasn't looking, she wasn't above nipping or pushing him. In fact, Heyes had thought sometimes in the past that the horse had Curry trained more than the other way around but he didn't look at the behavior through a more human perspective. The horse was possessive and jealous he concluded.

"Kid, this looks like a nice secluded spot. I think we're safe here, or as safe as we ever are on the trail, so I'm gonna make some coffee and biscuits before we settle down for a nap."

"Sounds good. I'm hungry. Give me a few more minutes and I'll help you out."

"Don't hurry. Oh, I think I have a bag of grain in my saddle bags you can spread out for horses. They deserve it; I'll bring it to down to you as soon as I get breakfast on."

"Okay," Kid called back from a shady spot further down the glade with grass for grazing and close to the stream where he had tethered the horses.

Kid had watered, inspected the animals for any cuts or injuries resulting from last night's wild ride and finished brushing down the horses. He scratched their ears and noses and good naturedly fended off Brandy's attempts for more. The mare repeatedly sniffed the pocket of Curry's sheepskin coat.

Kid chuckled, "I was saving these for later but if you insist on them now with your grain I guess it'll be all right." He reached into the deep pocket and pulled out two delicious-looking red shiny apples and held one out in each hand to the eager horses.

"Where did you get those?" Heyes inquired curiously, startling his partner.

"What? I didn't hear you come up."

"The apples, where did you get those? They look good. Do you have any more?"

Curry face flushed and he looked guiltily down at the ground as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "No, I don't have anymore. I got them in town before we left."

Heyes frowned and thoughtfully mused, "When did you have the time to buy apples? We were in kinda of a rush."

Kid's fair complexion turned even pinker and his ears positively flamed red. "Don't get mad, but I sorta backslid. I didn't exactly buy them. They were sitting in a bin outside the mercantile on the way to the livery and I grabbed two."

Brown eyes widened and Heyes stared at his blushing partner incredulously. "Let me get this straight, you shoplifted two apples on the way out of a town where a posse was forming. This is just great; you risked our amnesty with petty theft for two apples that you just fed to the horses."

Blue eyes looked up sheepishly, the toe of Kid's left boot tracing circles in the dirt. "No one saw me, Heyes. I have fast hands."

"Oh, that's okay then," Heyes shot back sarcastically with his hands on his hips, bristling with righteous indignation.

"I'm sorry, you're right. I don't know what came over me. They were just there and Brandy likes apples and I knew we were in for a tough night and I guess I wanted to have something for them when we finally shook off the posse. I promise I won't do it again." The younger man was earnest in his rush to give his solemn promise not to disappoint Heyes. The fact that such simple thefts ultimately led to a ten thousand dollar dead or alive bounty flashed through his brain and he didn't even have the excuse that they were starving.

The two men stood staring at each other while the horses placidly munched their treats in blissful ignorance. They both realized that the situation was being blown out of proportion but also mindful that such casual and minor disregard for the law could not happen again lest it really did lead to old habits being renewed. Both partners' bodies relaxed and a look of understanding passed between them.

Heyes reached into the burlap sack in his hand and sprinkled a couple of handfuls of grain on the ground. He felt justified in placing the majority closer to his horse as he warily studied the palomino. He couldn't help but assign a hefty share of the blame to the beautiful mare.

Kid turned towards the campsite and sniffed, "Damn, the biscuits are burning." Heyes felt big brown eyes accusingly watch his back as they sprinted back to camp.

Slightly blackened biscuits and thick, strong coffee was consumed, the dishes were done and the fire banked letting the pair prepare to finally rest. Curry walked the perimeter, checked on the horses and ensured that the environment was still safe while Heyes packed up the supplies. They laid down in the bedrolls with heavy lids for a much needed sleep.

Heyes tried to shut his mind down but images of blonde-haired women riding palomino horses, both batting long eyelashes at his heart-on-his-sleeve-wearing partner kept him awake. He listened to Kid's soft even breathing and came to the conclusion that Brandy had to go. It was not a question of stamina or speed, the golden equine goddess was eye-catching when they needed ordinary. Then there was the fact that Kid's affection for the animal affected his judgment and possibly caused his practical nature to be overruled. The horse was a bad influence. Kid was too easily beguiled by pretty, needy females; it didn't matter what species they were.

A brown eye slowly opened and checked on his peacefully sleeping friend then closed as thoughts and images swirled into a darkening haze. Heyes knew Kid would be hurt once again when the harsh reality of their existence wounded his accessible heart. He gave dubious thanks for the hard shield that protected his own feelings. Heyes' last clear thought before sleep finally calmed his mind and renewed his body was a firm resolve to find and exploit an amnesty-seeking ex-outlaw's unique circumstances to part Kid Curry and Brandy as soon as could be arranged. It was for the Kid's own good.


End file.
